by P. K. Lentz
“I would add, Colonel, that even if Earth were to become a distant memory to me, even if Scythia were to be destroyed, it would never be unimportant that I am Scythian. Never. If you cannot understand that, then I fear we may not work well together. I await your reply.” She ended as Rivann’ivoth had: “Arixa out.”
Then she did as Vax had shown her on the controls to end and dispatch the message. She had to take on faith that it was truly sent and that Vax was not sabotaging her. Such uncertainties regarding him were precisely why she was eager to get to know another representative of the star-folk, Zhi.
She found Vax waiting outside the iris.
“Could you take me to Zhi?” she asked.
“You’re able to contact her yourself now,” he pointed out. He grabbed her right wrist, which was still sheathed in the ILA. It caused no discomfort, so she saw no reason not to leave it extended.
“Turn on your comm,” he said. “You’ll know the sequence.”
She moved her fingers and heard a tone in both ears.
“Zhi’s sequence is 4-Gelot-7-stroke-2.”
As she heard the sequence, Arixa found her fingers making movements which she knew, thanks to imprinting, corresponded.
“When you hear a chime,” Vax said, releasing her wrist, “you may speak to Zhi.”
She heard the chime and grinned but said nothing.
“Yes?” she head Zhi say. It sounded as if the woman were standing right beside her.
“Hello?” Arixa said, still smiling. “Zhi... I... this is Arixa.”
“I know.”
Arixa cleared her throat and removed her smile. “If you are free, I had hoped we could train together. Even if it is only for a short time.”
There was some hesitation during which Arixa prayed for the answer she desired.
“Fine,” Zhi agreed at length. “Activity room in two minutes.”
Fifteen
Vax showed Arixa the way to the activity room, an open space with a padded floor and unfamiliar equipment lining the walls. Moments later Zhi entered, and the Persian took his leave with cordial words.
Shedding slipper-like shoes, Zhi walked directly to the center of the padded floor. Arixa, already lacking footwear, took a spot a few paces from Zhi, facing her.
Since Zhi said nothing, Arixa likewise opted for silence, for now.
When Zhi pointed to Arixa’s right arm, Arixa performed the quick finger movements which deactivated the unfair advantage of the ILA. Zhi adopted a formal-looking ready stance, Arixa a looser defensive one.
A beat later, Zhi attacked. Arixa moved to block her, but was far too late: the butt of Zhi’s palm met Arixa’s jaw, immediately after which a sweep of Zhi’s foot knocked Arixa’s legs out from under her. Lying on her back, Arixa looked up at the smaller woman poised to deliver a killing blow that never fell. Instead Zhi returned to her starting point in a silent declaration of victory.
Picking herself up and rubbing her jaw, Arixa chuckled in amazement and resumed a ready posture. Again, Zhi quickly attacked. This time, Arixa batted aside a right fist aimed at her face only to be caught in the sternum by the left before another leg sweep put her on the mat.
Once more, Zhi declined to press the attack beyond that point, presumably in adherence to more civilized customs than would have prevailed in a Scythian camp.
“All right...” Arixa said, standing. “I admit, you’re good. Let’s try again.”
This time Arixa charged low and managed to get inside Zhi’s guard, grabbing her left wrist in one hand and wrapping the other arm around her midsection. It did no good; somehow Zhi managed to knee Arixa in the ribs and slip free. A second later, Arixa was flipped onto her back, and the same knee landed, precisely and without harm, on her throat.
Zhi stepped back in victory, freeing Arixa to rise.
“Impressive,” Arixa said. “I know when I’m outmatched. I don’t suppose you use a sword?”
“Why would I?” Zhi gave a curt bow, picked up her shoes and began to stride for the exit.
“Don’t leave yet,” Arixa pleaded, rubbing her side. “Please, give me one minute to speak. Then, if you’re not interested, be on your way.”
The Han woman looked expectantly at Arixa.
“Is there any way Vax can hear us?” Arixa asked. “Or anyone else?”
“Not unless one of us opens a comm or a device has been planted covertly. Just talk.”
Mindful of Zhi’s impatience, Arixa spoke swiftly: “One day I want to kill Jir. Lots of them. I might be wrong, but I sense you want that, too. I have no idea how to make it happen, but I know that bows and horses will be of no use. I’ll need other weapons and the ability to use them. But first, I must save the lives of thousands of my people. There’s something you could do, a very small favor, which I think would ensure success.”
Until now, Arixa could make no determination from the other woman’s expression whether her words were having an effect. Zhi’s look was impenetrable.
“Will you hear it?” Arixa asked hopefully.
“Go on.”
“Simply fly one of your skyboats over Roxinaki. That’s all. Do it openly, in daylight. Let it be witnessed by many eyes. I’ve warned my people to watch for a sign, and I can think of none clearer. After seeing it, they will be ready to listen. Will you do it?”
Zhi stared at her briefly and averted her gaze to stare at something else. Eventually she said, “I will consider it.”
The reply was hardly cause for rejoicing, but neither was it defeat.
“Do you know whether any Han cities will be targeted when the Jir come?” Arixa asked, not idly but with calculation.
A bare shake of Zhi’s head. “I have no more connection to them than I do to other Gorosians.”
“I see,” Arixa said. “If the Han do have a city under threat, and if you felt for them a tenth of what I feel for Scythia, then to see it devastated would be like dying yourself. You would try everything to prevent it. As I am. As I must.”
Arixa hung her head, having nearly succeeded in bringing a tear to her own eye.
“I understand you’re not fond of company, Zhi, so I’m grateful for the time you’ve given me. I can’t say I enjoy being thrown on my ass, but if you’re willing to continue, so am I.”
“Another time,” Zhi said. Then she added, displaying perhaps the barest trace of levity, even if she failed to smile, “You fail to present a sufficient challenge.”
“You want a challenge?” Arixa thought quickly enough to respond. “Then challenge the Jir with me.”
Zhi didn’t answer, but there was meaning in the simple fact that she did not scoff, as Vaxsuvarda and a great many others surely would have. Rather she pursed her thin lips, tilting her head slightly before resuming her walk to the door, which irised to let her leave.
Minutes later, Vax found Arixa trying in vain to operate the elevator on her own.
He smiled. “You’re not authorized. If you were to join us, then you would be. Until then...” He activated it himself. “How was your training? Apart from brief.”
“I’m no match for Zhi hand-to-hand,” Arixa admitted without shame. “I’d like to try her with arms sometime. But I don’t gather we’ll be friends.”
“Social intercourse is not a skill or interest of hers. If it were, she might request a different posting than this.”
“Why don’t you request one?”
“I soon might,” Vax mused.
They were only a few words, but Arixa heard much more: that Vax had little wish to be on Earth when any potential consequences of his actions, and hers, were felt. Possibly to spare his conscience, or possibly because he doubted his chances of survival.
Arixa knew one thing. Vax was not someone to be depended on. She didn’t know yet whether Zhi was, but hope remained.
“I take it you wish to return to your war band?”
Arixa affirmed it, and Vax escorted her back to the Dawn’s temporary housing.
“We will s
end food for all soon,” he said along the way.
“Like you made for me last time?” Arixa asked hopefully.
“Not so elaborate. But I’m pleased you enjoyed it.”
At the barracks entrance, Vax gave her the sequence for contacting him by comm and left.
Inside, Arixa wasted no time demonstrating her new liquid armor, which of course caused an uproar of amazement and fascination.
“Iaernglof!” Ivar shouted excitedly, gripping Arixa’s arm.
Humoring him, she asked, “What’s that?”
“Our god Thorr is said to possess magical iron gauntlets, the iaernglofar. You are Arixa Ironglove! Shieldbreaker and Ironglove!”
Arixa only scoffed. Most of the Dawn wished to know when they would get their own ironglove, which Arixa could not answer except to say she would ask. For their amusement, she activated and deactivated it over and over and over again. Every man and woman had to touch it, poke it, hit it, rub it.
“Having your hands all over me constantly is getting tiresome!” Arixa complained to them genially.
She opted not to tell the Dawn of the offer made by Colonel Rivann’ivoth, but she did tell them that she had seen and spoken indirectly with a purple lizard with bulging yellow eyes. She didn’t much care whether they believed her, but they had no reason not to at this point, even if they had yet to meet the famous dog-man.
She also withheld from the Dawn the minor but possibly heartbreaking detail that their augmentations had left them more or less immune to intoxication. She reminded herself to raise that matter with Fizzbik when she got a chance. The star-folk seemed to have a solution for everything; perhaps they had one for this. Star-cannabis and star-beer?
Vax delivered twenty-five meals on twenty-five trays for them. The main component of each meal was a dense chunk of something called shark, which Andromache had told the Dawn about once: a large, sleek, scaleless, dagger-toothed fish which prowled the waters around Hellas, a monster thankfully not found in Scythia’s Bleak Sea. Filling out the tray were some unfamiliar cooked and spiced vegetables. The Dawn found the flavors strange, but no one went hungry. Many, including Arixa, quite enjoyed it.
Later a chime in Arixa’s ear informed her of an incoming comm which she accepted with a flick of her fingers.
Vax’s voice informed her of a new transmission from Colonel Rivann’ivoth. The message was brief, he said, and offered to send it to her comm, promising the contents would remain private. She accepted, not fully believing him but deciding it didn’t much matter.
“I regret to hear of your decision, Arixa,” Rivan’ivoth said, “even if I find the reason commendable. I wish you success in sparing your people from the coming catastrophe and safe passage thereafter.”
It was a relief, really. Arixa had not looked forward to putting to the Dawn the prospect of leaving Earth.
For her own part, she wasn’t certain how she felt about the idea. After all she had seen thus far of a world beyond Scythia, perhaps it was only natural to harbor a nagging desire to see more.
After hearing it, she commed Vax and informed him that she wished to be returned to Scythia with her war band as soon as possible. With twenty-three days left until Devastation, every day counted.
They slept on their padded racks for what they assumed, despite the lack of visible sky, to be the night, and awoke to another satisfactory meal, their last in this place.
“Before we go...” Arixa said to Vaxsuvarda when he delivered the trays, “would you show my warriors what you showed me? The Devastation.”
Vax grudgingly agreed, and following breakfast, the vision of Ishpekai was displayed at the center of the room. After overcoming their initial awe at the alien concept of observing places and events which were not physically present, they witnessed the destruction in stunned silence.
“This is the terror that awaits Roxinaki if we fail,” Arixa said. “There is no more I can add. Let us not fail, my Dawn. Vax...” she ventured. “Could we also see an image of the Jir, the face of our enemy?”
“No,” Vax said after a moment’s thought. “There is no point. The success of your plan means never seeing a Pentarchy ship, much less a Jir. I won’t help you to inspire more hatred.”
Not being one to beg, Arixa accepted his answer.
A short while later, the twenty-four were escorted by Vax and Zhi in groups of six, for that was as many as the elevator comfortably held, to the large room containing the shuttles. Zhi made no effort to communicate with Arixa, and Arixa did likewise, wary of arousing Vax’s suspicion.
One group of six warriors was treated to a chance glimpse of Dr. Fizzbik in a corridor. The humans made no secret of their excitement, pointing and shouting at the Gaboon, who muttered and barked back at them before quickly disappearing through an iris.
When all twenty-five, their weapons and armor restored to them, had boarded the sphere, it ascended over the vast ice-plain which the passengers had not had the opportunity to view while flying in, having been rendered unconscious. Arixa gazed down on it, and then the forests and seas and mountains which followed, with a sense of wonder scarcely diminished by repetition.
Not long after, the soaring sphere settled into a rugged valley north of the Bleak Sea an easy ride from one of the sites where Matas knew to post a watch, and the twenty-five set boot in grass.
“I’ve removed the tracking device from your armor, Arixa,” Vax said from the shuttle’s open portal. “Still, I won’t pretend this farewell is a final one. It might be, but I think not.”
Arixa shrugged. “The gods will decide, Vaxsuvarda. Either way, I thank you.”
“Safe passage, Arixa of Scythia,” Vax said ambivalently. “You worry me, but I have enjoyed knowing you.”
“Safe passage, Vax.”
The opening sealed. The polished sphere lifted off the ground, glowing faintly green against the bright sky, and sped away.
Sixteen
It took a full day to locate their fellow Dawn rider in the nearby fishing village, learn the war band’s present whereabouts, have twenty-five horses brought, and then reunite at its current encampment. The reunion itself lasted the evening, with much display made of augmented abilities and stories told of metal walls, magic doors, dog-men and travel by skyboat.
Arixa forbade the pitching of a cannabis lodge for the reason that the fates of Roxinaki and Scythia were at stake and they needed their wits about them. If it also forestalled an inconvenient discovery by her newly augmented warriors, all the better.
By now, they had been away twenty days. Twenty-one remained until Devastation Day.
With first light, they broke camp and rode. By afternoon, the isthmus came into sight. As they began to cross it, several hundred riders of the Shath’s Guard stood spread across the plain in a line blocking the Dawn’s path.
One rider came forward whom Arixa recognized immediately by his outline and manner of riding as her half-brother Skulis.
“Arixa,” he cautiously addressed. “It is good to see you. But you are not permitted to approach Roxinaki. You know that.”
“I do,” Arixa said. “I’m going anyway. You cannot stop me. I hope you won’t try. The last thing I wish is to kill Scythians to save Scythia, but I will if there is no other way. This city must be emptied. Less than a moon remains.”
“Arixa...” her half-brother pleaded.
Arixa raised her right arm overhead and triggered the ILA. The ironglove. Liquid metal, glowing a fiery orange in the setting sun, flowed over her tattooed skin. Guardsmen gasped.
“Twenty-five of the Dawn have been touched by the gods,” Arixa announced plainly and loudly. “Even if vastly outnumbered, we cannot be defeated! Stand aside!”
“Be reasonable, sister! You know I can’t allow that. Come now—”
“Here are my demands,” Arixa shouted, preempting whatever suggestion he had been about to make. “The Dawn will encamp on the plain north of Roxinaki. I will proceed into the city alone and have free movement i
nside. If within three days my father has not ordered an evacuation, I will declare myself Queen and apply whatever force is needed to prosecute my claim. Now, brother... stand down.”
Staring from atop his mount, Skulis sank into pensive silence.
“Brother!”
The new voice belonged to Leimya, who pushed her horse up alongside Arixa’s.
“Heed her, brother!” Leimya urged Skulis. “She speaks the truth. These folk healed me. I breathe with ease now! They showed me Arixa’s vision of the coming Devastation. Twenty-four of us shared it! Our whole family stands to perish, Skulis. That is, if they are fortunate enough not to be among those taken away. I beg you, throw in with our cause or at least stand aside.”
Skulis spent long moments throwing conflicted looks at his full and half-sisters, at the Dawn, at the Shath’s Guard arrayed behind him, at the plains in between.
Finally, he raised his voice in the direction of his men.
“Let them pass!” he ordered. “If Scythians must spill Scythian blood, it will not be by my order!” Then, firmly, to Arixa, “The Dawn is to remain on the plains outside the city. You will accompany me to the palace to repeat your plea to Father. Is that agreed?”
“Agreed,” Arixa returned. “Except that I intend to plead for nothing.”
The combined bands rode south for Roxinaki, stopping within sight of it for the Dawn to make camp. Skulis, along with some thirty guardsmen, made ready to continue with Arixa into the city.
She whispered in private to Ivar, “Give the Guard a show of our new abilities. Make them reluctant to challenge us.”
“Let me come with you,” Matas offered before Arixa departed. “It might smooth matters.”
Arixa declined. “I don’t plan on making this smooth for Orik. I go alone.”
Surrounded by escorts, her right arm shining with alien metal, she rode back into her father’s city in defiance of his ban.
Shath Orik must have been informed by messenger, for he stormed out from the palace gates to meet her arrival.
“What is she doing here!” he raged. “Remove her!”
“Skulis could not remove me if he tried, Orik.” Deliberately, Arixa addressed her father by his given name rather than his title or Father. “Nor could you. Even thirty men combined would probably fail, although I hope you won’t force me to test that.”